


The Crazy Ones

by CoffeesForFuckers



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Angst, Anorexia, Cuddling, Cute, Depression, Eating Disorders, Falling In Love, Fluff, Frerard, Happy, Hospital, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Kissing, Love, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Mental Health Issues, Mental Hospital, Mental Instability, Possible Rape?, Sad, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Sweet, getting better, idk - Freeform, idk I don't plan things, maybe? - Freeform, mental health evaluation, sad then happy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-18 03:08:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11865402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeesForFuckers/pseuds/CoffeesForFuckers
Summary: “I’m Frank Iero.” He says, “Congratulations on joining the not-so-crazy-ones club. Members, two… You and I.” He sticks his hand towards me.“Gerard Way.” I reply, swallowing a little too hard, “And, that’s where you are incorrect, Mr. Iero, in here, we are the crazy ones.”//May be Triggering\\





	1. Name Tags Label Us As The Crazy Ones

#  **Gerard**

Nametags with the all too cheery phrase;

_ Hello, My Name Is... _

Followed by a name that nobody cares to know. Only the people that already knew who you actually were from the start should or would, of course, already know your name.

I get the point of how it is horribly annoying and tiring to be saying,  _ "Hi, my name is..." _ over and over as an introduction to future acquaintances, but let's be honest here, you'll be doing it anyway,  _ if  _ you do it at all, for that matter.

_ I  _ on the other hand,  _ do not _ associate myself with people like  _ them  _ anyway.

I'm just Gerard, not somebody that is anybody at all.

I don't find this very necessary either, we'll all know each other at some point anyway... Or not, either way, it’s not important. We’ll all leave here either dead or alive at some point in the near future.

I don’t want to be here. I am certainly not as crazy or ill as most of the people around me were. There was some girl with her arms missing chunks of skin, all healed or bandaged to not get the fresh ones infected, I couldn’t tell if they were cuts or something else. I wonder what the hell she was using to harm herself?

There’s another kid, hands trembling as he scratched at his arms compulsively, he has massive chunks of hair ripped from his head. Looking into his eyes I could tell he was loony. He held his mouth open, making some weird sounds. It’s creepy.

Then, there’s the girl with at least six names written on the tag, she’s having a full on conversation, all with herself and from what I could tell, there were, Alexa, Trent and Jonas all talking to each other… Wow.

Another kid is twitching and staring at me, he scares me and I feel like he can read my mind so I’m not going to go much into detail with him.

Then there’s the kid sat in the corner jerking off so hard that I kind of expected his dick to come clean off in his hands as he stares heavily into the floor. I actually think that if he stares at it long enough, the weight of his violent glare, will cause the floor to cave in.

There’s also a few people here like me, just mostly mental illness, like, depression, bipolar disorder, tourette's, and a few others like that. Also, the group had a few ill kids, cancer patients, severe head injury, physical therapy kids, lots of things like that.

I didn’t belong, even with people more like me than anybody in the  _ ‘real world’ _ , I still didn’t seem to fit in.

I was the kid with weird clothes and too-bright, dyed hair, and I just, wasn’t like any of these people.

I was the one who thought it would be good to finally go get help but now I was thinking of backing out. Anorexia and depression are both reasons for this, I did need help and my mother and brother were so helpful with getting me into the best hospital in all of America, which just so happened to be in New Jersey, not far from home. My family was so happy when I finally came to them and told them about how I wanted this.

I regret it already.

And then, a kid with jet-black, shoulder-length hair waltz’s into the room, dressed in some weird clothes that oddly enough, looked normal on him. His name tag was placed on upside down and it read  _ ‘Nobody You Fuck’ _ . I grin at it even though he reminded me too much of a 13 year old on Tumblr that smokes cigarettes out of their nose for the  _ ‘aesthetic’  _ of it or whatever.

He’s charming compared to the rest of the crazies in here.

“You know, when you write your name as ‘ _ the hesitant alien boy _ ’, that makes them think you're crazier than you’re letting on.” The jet-black locks taps his finger on the red and white tag on my jacket. He is impossibly short.

“You know, when you write ‘ _ Nobody, You Fuck _ ’ on your name tag that makes many people think you’re both insane  _ and  _ rude.” I reply, looking down at the cocky stranger who stares right back.

“At least they’re thinking the truth.” He replies, too smoothly spoken and calm.

“Oh really? Are you here for the same reason as the girl with like six names on her tag or the one that has missing chunks of hair?” I question, “Oh, what about the one staring a hole into my head?” I speak with a dull tone.

“Hmm, none.” He shakes his head, “More like the kid that lights fire to things for fun, enjoys getting into fights and fighting with his bruised and bloodied knuckles, likes the bitter taste of his own copper-like blood, has covered up scares all over his body, of which, he can’t for the life of him, remember whether they were self-inflicted or not and most-definitely, loves to kiss pretty boys with smooth lips and soft skin, you know, the kind that gives you horrible butterflies and make your skin tingle when their skin meets yours.” He rambles, it’s nonsensical but I hang onto each word like they could be the thing to save my life, but I really can’t tell why, “What kind of crazy are you, Mr. Alien Boy? Are you bandaged arms or chapped hands?” He throws the spotlight at me and I barely know how to respond.

“Well, I’m  _ definitely  _ neither of them.” I shake my head, “I’m the kid that isn’t ever skinny enough, the kid that likes the sound of night time silence when they’re alone on the rooftops, loves to envy everybody else because they have it all better than them, the person that likes to hate others because then they can hate themselves so much less, I’m the one that likes being alone because that’s all they seem to know and I’m also the one who very much enjoys kissing boys with soft lips and a sweet touch but they can be rough and tumble if they wanted to be.”

The kid runs his tongue over his lips momentarily, soaking in my words, “I’m Frank Iero.” He says, “Congratulations on joining the not-so-crazy-ones club. Members, two… You and I.” He sticks his hand towards me.

“Gerard Way.” I reply, swallowing a little too hard, “And, that’s where you are incorrect, Mr. Iero, in here, we  _ are _ the crazy ones.”


	2. Two - Medication

#  **Gerard**

Well, we got roommates. That is, if we were mentally sound enough to. The kid that I was stuck with had paranoid schizophrenia and I get he can't really help it but, holy shit he was scary.

At times he was calm and a pretty neat guy, he'd talk to me about comic books and art, which were two of my top favorite things. Others, he would be in a corner, hugging his knees and murmuring in some creepy made-up language, you know, like the ones in horror movies.

I don't hate him or anything, I just  _ really _ would rather  _ not _ room with him. 

You know, the kid jerking it and the kid staring into my soul seemed like less dangerous options in my opinion.

But that's whatever I guess.

Frank was really cool, he was a lot like myself. He just wanted to get better and stop hating himself so much. 

Though, I really don't get how he could hate himself, he is violently attractive, he's fun and small and just a lot of things that I wish I was.

I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling at the moment. My roommate, Jace, off with some doctors for an evaluation. There's a hurried tap on my door and it's thrown open before I even get a chance to say ‘ _ come in _ ’. 

“I hate my roommate! I hate him so much!” Frank starts to shout, he's fuming with anger.

“Whoa.” I sit, “Deep breaths, Frank. It'll be alright.” I stare with wide-eyes by his outburst.

“Gerard, I'm gonna kill the little fucker!” He growls lowly.

“Dude we've been here for like a day.” I squint at him, “How could you already hate him?”

“That little motherfucker is touching my shit and breaking things and yelling and-... And… Agh!” He throws himself onto my bed, “Stupid psycho.” Frank grumbles, the red anger in his face draining after a moment or so.

“You okay, little dude?” I push hair out of his face. 

“Shut up, chicken leg.” He grumbles about his height.

“Chicken leg?” I crush my brows together.

He squeezes my thigh, “Yeah, see.” He says, “Skinny like a chicken leg.”

I punch him in the shoulder and he laughs, “But I mean, at least I can fix the problem of having chicken legs, you can't do shit about being like half an inch tall.” I retort and his grin turns to a scowl.

“Shut up you nit.” He mutters, defeatedly.

“What? Are you British now?” I tease.

“Yes, I am.” He mocks an accent that is nowhere near British.

I roll my eyes with a grin, “You idiot.” I give him a nudge and he smiles at me.

“I know.” He looks at me with big hazel eyes. Well, if they even could be considered that. It was more like a (very beautiful) form of heterochromia. He had a central version, which was gorgeous, there was this golden/honey brown that wrapped around the iris of his eyes and bled into a murky green color, gorgeous nonetheless, and then there was a deep brown-like, green-ish blue ring around the outer edge that made the rest of the colors burst, exploding to life.

I am brought back from my staring when he waves his hand in front of my face, “Hello, earth to the alien boy?” He drones and I seem to snap back into the real world.

“Shit,  sorry.” I shake my head and rub the back of my neck.

“You were staring.” He points out.

“I know, I do that a lot by accident.” I tell him, it's not fully the truth. Usually when I stare, it's not at a person right before me, it's at a blank wall or the sky or something, you know? Not directly into some handsome kid’s eyes.

“I can tell.” He chuckles, “You should let me be your roommate.” Frank looks up at me. At first I think he's joking and snort at him, quickly realizing that he was, in fact, being very serious.

“Oh, well, I already have one. He's going for a psych evaluation right now or something like that.” I explain and Frank stares at me for a long while. I don't think he believes me at first, denial from the fact that he has very low self esteem and a depression much like mine, one that tells you that people just say things to be nice to you but don't really mean it. 

“Oh.” He mumbles and sits. I gently touch his shoulder.

“I'd prefer you as a roommate as well, Frank.” I give him a genuine smile and he looks at me with a confused stare for a moment before letting a smile take over, seeing that I wasn't lying.

“Thank you.” He grins, taking my hand for a second and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“No, don't thank me.” I shake my head and he just smiles at me before hopping off of my bed.

“I've got therapy in like, ten minutes… Let's have dinner together?” Frank sounds like he's prepared to be shot down.

“Sounds like a plan, and thanks for reminding me that I have to go too, I need to talk to a nutritionist about my eating disorder.” I stand also.

“Good, you need to get some meat on them bones, chicken leg.” He punches my arm lightly, “But seriously, I know this probably means nothing as we've known each other for like a day, but I'm really proud of you, for getting help, you know?” His face flushes red.

Tears well in my eyes, nobody had said they were proud of me, not even my brother, “Thank you… Like, so, so much, Frank.” I toss an arm over his shoulder, giving him an awkward side-hug.

“Oh wow, are you crying?” He asks, looking up at my face.

“Nobody has ever been proud of me before…” I rub at my eyes.

“What?” Frank looks somewhat appalled by my statement.

“I'll explain soon, you better get to therapy! I have to go get information on how to fix myself.” I say proud of myself for once, it's all thanks to Frank.

“Okay. I'll be watching to make sure you eat tonight.” He taps my side, “And that you don't throw it back up.” 

I grin, “Bye Frank.” We head in opposite directions.

Slowly, I make my way down to the nutritionist’s office, having to ask a few people how to get there.

I get there and am taken right in. An older man is sat in the chair before me and he points at the cozy-looking chair near him, “Hello, Gerard, come, sit.” He sounds warm and friendly.

“Hi…” I hum anxiety rearing it's ugly head at me as I sit.

“No need to be nervous, we're going to make you feel better, Gerard.” He says and that calms me down.

“Thanks.” I give a small smile.

“I'm Carson Jamie. You can call me whatever you want as long as you don't call me Dr. Jamie, that's too professional for me.” He beams and I nod softly.

“Okay, I guess I'll just call you Carson?” I mutter, unsure of myself.

“That sounds good to me!” He is too over enthusiastic, “So you have anorexia, Yes?”

“Well, I do binge and purge quite often so I'm not sure whether I'm anorexic or bulimic.” I reply.

“You can have both, they usually just categorize it as anorexia either way.” He shrugs, “I also hear you have some pretty severe depressive episodes, you've gone so far as to take your own life before, correct?”

“Uh, yeah… Three, maybe four times? Can't remember.” I bite my lip, scratching at a burn mark on my arm.

“Hmm, are you on any medication for it?” Carson asks yet another question.

“Um, yeah, well… I was, they refused to refill my prescription because my doctor wouldn’t sign a note or whatever they have to sign to allow you to get medication.” I frown, “They never helped anyway.”

“How long were you on them?”

“Six months maybe? I just got worse. Those meds make me not myself anymore. I don’t like them.” I shake my head.

“Some medications are too strong, that’s like people with schizophrenia, many don’t like the medications because some just dull everything for them.” Carson nods.

“That’s exactly what happens to me. I just feel like I’m watching myself do these things that I’m not trying to do, things that I don’t want, like… Like I don’t have control.” I feel tears prick at my eyes, “It feels like I’m just sitting and staring at somebody do tedious things, day after day and I can’t escape…” I shake my head more, never had I ever said this to anybody but Mikey. I love my brother but, he just doesn’t get it.

“That’s what happens to certain people, what were you taking?”

“Oh, umm… I think it was called, Lexapro?” I strain to remember.

Carson scribbles some things down on his clipboard, “... Okay, so…” He glances over his notes, “I think we’ll start you on Luvox for now and if it makes you feel like that again you can let me know and we’ll put you on something else. How does that sound?” 

I think for a second, remembering how fucking terrifying it was to take the Lexapro, I start to shake my head, “I-... I don’t think I can do that again.” I stutter, hands shaky.

“Don’t worry, Gerard, you don’t have to suffer with that feeling for months this time, we try it and see the effects after a few days, you know, once they start to kick in and all and if you don’t like the way you feel, we can stop them immediately.” He places a hand on my knee, “You don’t have to worry, I want to make you feel better, Gerard.”

I sit and think hard, “What about my eating problem?” I wonder. That’s why I was down here.

“We have to start with the depression because that is a huge factor to why you feel like you have to eat in such an unhealthy way.” He explains, “Though, we will be monitoring you while you eat. We’re going to try and do at least three small meals a day and work our way up from there.” He tells me and I let out a breath.

“Okay… I don’t know if I can do that.”

“Don’t be afraid to not succeed at first, it’ll take a while.” He comforts me.

“But, I just… Food makes me sick to my stomach, I can barely think about eating without getting a weird sick feeling and a head ache.” I feel honestly ashamed of myself for letting it get this bad.

“That’s okay. I want you to make out a list tonight of all the foods that you love, your favorites. Like, for example, something that doesn’t make you feel sick if you eat a little of it.” Carson tells me, “And then, I want you to give it to me when you finish and we’ll try and get you all of that stuff for your meals, that usually helps slowly guiding people back into eating, at least a little something every day.” 

I nod, “I think I can try that… It’s going to be a short list, but I’ll try my hardest.” I want to get better. I don’t want to be sick anymore.

“That’s the spirit!” He cheers, “Okay, so now that we have the food things out of the way, the medication. We are going to have you on very small doses so that, that horrible feeling doesn’t hit you like a brick all at once, it will gradually start to set in, if it does at all.” He says, “The moment you start feeling off, out of control or uncomfortable you come right to me and I will take you off of it faster than you can say your name.”  He smiles and I feel like I can do it. I feel safe for once.

“Okay.” I slowly start to nod, “I’ll do it, I’ll take the meds.”

“I’m really proud of you, Gerard! It usually takes days and even weeks of fighting with patients to even tell me what’s wrong. You really do want to be better and I promise I’ll make sure you get there.” He stands and I follow suit, “We’ll be starting you on the medication tonight right before bed, you take a half a pill before going to sleep and the other half when you get up, that alright with you?”

I nod for the millionth time, “Thank you.” I speak and he ruffles my hair.

“Listen, I know that you probably won’t be able to eat much at dinner since we just started treatment today, so I’ll make sure to not hassle you about how much you ate and kept down. I do expect you to eat something though.” He grins softly at me.

“I promise I’ll try and eat. Frank will make me eat at least something.” I laugh, more to myself than anything.

“Frank? Is he the boy with the P.T.S.D. and quite a few other illnesses?” Ask the doctor and I instantly become confused. 

“Well, I’m not sure. We just met but he’s quite charming.” I reply. I was now intrigued.

“Okay, Gerard, you need to go eat, you know where the cafeteria is, yes?” He asks me and I inform him at I do and thank him before heading to have dinner.

I enter the cafeteria and am instantly overwhelmed by the groups of people. I panic for a bit before I hear my name being called, “Hey, Gerard! You’re late!” I feel arms fly around me as Frank throws himself on me, almost knocking me down. 

“Jesus, Frank!” I laugh, “How’d it go?” I ask him and he beams at me.

“It was good! I got to talk about stuff I’ve been needing to get off my chest for a long time!” He squeezes my small form, “I missed you!” He cheers. This kid has no boundries and I kind of love it.

“Missed you too, lil dude.” I ruffle his hair, “I’m glad it want well though! They’re putting me on meds starting to night, hopefully that will help me start to feel better. They’re also gonna be regulating my meals.” I say and he lets me go.

“Yay! Healthy Gee is a good Gee.” He grabs my arm and pulls me to the dinner line. Not many people were left in it. 

I just grab a sandwich that I’m probably not going to be eating and an apple that I would attempt to eat. Frank pulls me to a table, of which, is barren.

He sits across from me and starts to eat some pasta from the kitchen, which, actually looks kind of appealing. I take a small bite of my apple, it’s sweet. Frank looks up at me with his pretty eyes shining.

“Hey, look, you’re doing a good.” He says, sounding stupid, though it was so fucking cute the way he said it though.

“You’re a brat.” I chuckle softly.

“So, Gee… I know it’s none of my business but, like, what made you want to come in here? Other than wanting to get better, I mean.”

“Oh, well… I can barely think about food without getting sick and I can’t really keep much of anything down and now I don’t like how scrawny I look now but I can’t fix it. I also was starting to get really bad thoughts again and just knew it was time…” I sigh.

“Oh… I really wish that I had been as strong as you.” He shakes his head.

“You’re strong in your own ways.” I say and he shakes his head.

“Gerard, I am definitely not strong. I tried to kill myself and ended up here and I don’t want to live and I want to stop reliving everything and stop feeling the pain and regretting my every move. I am not strong.” He hands his head, “Physically? Yes, I am. Mentally? No way in hell.” 

I reach over and touch his hand and he flinches back, “Sorry.” I say, “But, you are strong. Frankie, I tried to kill myself too many times and you still think I’m strong.” 

He shakes his head again, “You wouldn’t get it.” He goes to stand.

“Frank, no. I’m sorry, I won’t push it anymore.” I grab his wrist and he rips it back.

“I’m not angry with you, I’m just not hungry anymore.” He grumbles, “I think I’m gonna go to bed.” He picks up his tray, his hands trembling so hard that he drops it.

I watch his frustration grow as he tries more than three times but he just can’t function suddenly, “Fuck!” He yells and drops back to the chair and placing his face into his hands.

I’m not sure what to do, he seemed to not want me to touch him.

“Frankie?” I hum and he looks up at me, he’s a complete wreck, “Are you okay? Do you want me to get somebody?” I ask.

“No. Just-... It’s just a bad memory.” His voice trembles.

“Frank, I’m going to get Dr. James.” I stand and he grabs my wrist, tight within his trembling fingers.

“No. Gerard, please.” He begs so weakly it hurts me, “I can’t bear to talk about it, I just can’t right now.” Frank’s pleading eyes make me sit back down.

“Okay, I won’t get anybody, can I at least walk you to your room to make sure you’re safe?” I watch him solemnly.

“I can’t stay with that fucking crazy.” He shakes his head, “Can you just walk around with me? Please?” He begs and I agree.

|||

His arm brushes against mine as we walk, he seems to be much calmer after a while. He’s making small talk with me, it’s mostly just nothingness, stupid things that weren’t important. He seriously is ill, I feel bad, I didn’t think that he was that bad and he even says that was a mild episode. It’s scary to think that he’s had worse and I feel awful for him.

“Hey, Frank?” I may have interrupted him rambling but I wasn’t sure.

“Uh… Yeah?” He glances at me sideways.

“I promise to stick by you.” I say. It’s random but I feel it needs to be said.

“What?” He narrows his brow.

“I promise that I won’t leave you, like, I’m here for you.” I assure, “I swear that I’ll cheer you on forever.” Saying this after knowing someone for probably close to a day and a half was not the most reasonable thing.

“Thank you, Gerard.” His cheeks are pink, “That means a lot… I’ll be cheering you on too.” He grins and turns to look at his feet as we walk.

“Let’s get you to bed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know how you like this in the comments!!  
> Also, please tell your friends about this because I am actually proud of this and love the idea!


	3. Big Mouths

#  **Frank**

It’s too early for anybody to be forced out of bed, especially mentally ill people such as myself. Group therapy was also really goddamn dull at this our, everybody just wanted to sleep for a few more hours, eat and then sleep some more. 

I seriously hated this, they dropped me into a group and private sessions because the private ones apparently weren’t helpful enough or whatever and they think I need to be around people with similar P.T.S.D memories and some other stupid shit. They really believed that I would talk and share with a group all the reasons that I'm fucked up.

Some girl named Violet or something was rambling on about her pet duck that died and how it was only her friend and whatever else. I was already over it and really was just sick of all of this. 

If I had succeeded…

“Frank, would you like to share about yourself?” The woman smiles at me.

“No.” I mutter, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Oh, well, why not Frank?” Her smile drops to a puzzled, small frown.

“Because, I don’t need to share the reasons that I’m fifty-shades of fucked up to a room full of crazies.” I snap, glaring at her.

“Frank!” She gasps, “That is no way to speak about your peers.”

“Then don’t ask me to talk about myself, I don’t want  _ them  _ to know even a single goddamn thing about me. It’s none of their business what happened to me to land me in this place.” I insist.

“You’ll have to join in at some point, the more you talk, the faster you leave here.” She pushes and I stand.

“Looks like I’m living here because this group of fucking people don’t need to hear about my shitty life and the shitty things that happen to me, I’m leaving and you can’t fucking stop me.” I grab my jacket from the chair and stomp out.

I really didn’t want to go back to my room. A month with my roommate is making it harder and harder to stay here and function like a real person. I feel like an experiment gone wrong and like I should just be eliminated.

I sigh in defeat as I pace outside of Gerard’s room. I was definitely far too attached to him and I should probably stop bothering him.

I just needed to calm down now and I knock on the door. His weird roommate, Jace, pulls the door open, “Hi, Frank. Gerard’s still asleep.” He says and moves out of the room, sliding past me, “You’re welcome to hang out in there if you want though.” He offers and I nod.

“Thanks, Jace.” I give a weak smile and slide into the room.

Gerard is peacefully sleeping and I feel bad for even thinking about waking him. I sit in one of the comfy chairs in the corner of the room. It brings back bad memories, just like everything else, as I sit and watch him sleeping in the bed.

I close my eyes and hope I’d be able to sleep it off.

_ Closed eyes stare blankly at me, watching me sit motionless in the chair. I can’t even sleep in my own bed, I feel unsafe.  _

_ I can’t even sleep. _

_ I just feel… Blank, empty, sick to my stomach. _

_ It hurts just like the rest of me. _

_ How can you sleep? How can you not feel what I’m feeling? _

_ Regret, sorrow, horror, so many things, so much I don’t like. I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t, I just couldn’t function. Staring at my bed which was taken over by a monster. It was like home all over again, it was like him all over again and I couldn’t do that again. I couldn’t take it anymore. _

_ His eyes open and he watches me, my shallow breathing, shaking hands. _

_ “I’m sorry.” _

“Frank?” A voice brings me back and I sit upright, “You alright?” He’s calming and I shake my head.

Gerard pats the bed next to him and slides over. I make my way over and sit where he’d tapped his hand. Gerard sighs at me and grabs my arm.

“Lay down, Frankie.” He says and I shake my head again.

“No, I’m good.” I mumble.

“Frankie, come on.” He whines and I can’t resist. I press myself down next to him and he pulls his arms around me and presses his face into my neck.

I flinch at the actions, I hated myself for it too.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” He asks me and I shake my head yet again.

“No, no. I just… I don’t like being touched very much.” He starts to pull himself back, “No!” I catch his arm, “It’s okay.” I frown softly. My hands were shaking and I was a mess.

“It doesn’t seem to be okay.”

“I just want to get better, Gee!” I snap unintentionally, making Gerard jump a bit, “Just, I-... It’s fine.”

“You’re trying to force yourself into being better when you’re not ready for it, Frank. Just go at your own pace, don’t force yourself.” Gerard pulls his arms away and I start to cry like an idiot.

“I want to be better, I don’t want to be fucked up anymore, I don’t want to live in the past forever, I don’t want to remember, I don’t want this.” I sit up and sob. Gerard’s hand goes to my back gently.

“It’s okay, Frankie.” I hear him whisper, “Talk to me, tell me how I can help you.”

“Make the pain go away.” I sob and lean against him.

“I don’t know how.” He mumbles, “I wish I did.”

My trembling fingers grip his loose shirt, scared out of my mind as I try to forget. Gerard rubs my back and it doesn’t seem to help me at all, “He hurt me.” I let the words fall freely.

“Who did?” He questions and I shake my head. That was as far as I was going with it.

I whimper and pull at his shirt. Gerard doesn’t seem to mind, he lets me cry on him and doesn’t ask questions. It’s probably the most helpful thing that had ever happened to me before.

“Thank you.”

|||

Sat at dinner with Gerard, I notice he looked a lot better than he had when we first came in. His skin doesn't sag down off his cheeks and he was full of more color. His eyes had a light in them once more. He seemed to be happy, or what I thought was happier than when we got here.

“Are the new pills working better than the others?” I ask Gerard.

“Yeah, from what I can tell so far.” He grins softly. He looked exhausted, which was understandable, he’d been up late a lot working on some comic things.

“I’m glad, though, you should probably sleep tonight, like a regular person.” I chuckle at his drooping eyes.

“I’m not regular, I’m crazy remember.” He jokes, causing me to laugh, “I’m gonna go toss this out.” He says, I noticed that every night he ate almost everything on his plate except for the little cherry tomatoes.

“You have to check it in with Carson first right?” I say and he nods.

“Yeah, I’ll be back.” I notice a small smile on his face.

He gets a couple feet away before he’s stopped by a girl named Allie, she was a complete bitch. She had some kind of illness that causes her to have seizures.

I see him say something to her and she pokes his stomach and says something back. I watch Gerard’s head fall and he slowly shuffles off.  I frown as I watch her sit down, snickering to some other girl who didn’t seem to find it very funny.

Gerard takes a bit to come back, looking dejected and defeated.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” I turn to look at him.

Gee shakes his head and sighs, “I think I’m gonna go to bed, do you want me to walk you to your room?” He says with a dull voice.

“Okay.” I stand and toss my food out.

We exit the cafeteria and we make our way down the mostly empty halls, “So, I noticed that you don’t like tomatoes.” I speak and Gerard just shakes his head, all too quiet for me, “I just want to say that I’m really proud of you, you’ve been eating and doing really good. They’re probably going to be sending you home soon.” I frown a little at the thought.

“Thanks.” He mumbles and I kind of give up.

I get to my room and lay down restlessly,

I wanted to go hang out with Gerard but he was tired.

I grumble and slide out of bed, I had to pee and decided I would walk around a bit and see if I got tired. Lazily I shuffle to the bathroom and push the door open. As soon as I do, I notice the sound of gagging stop, glancing in and finding Gerard, his fingers being shoved down his throat and he hadn’t seemed to notice me or that fact that he forgot to lock the door. 

I drop the handle and hurry to Gerard’s side, grabbing his hand away from his mouth. He jumps, shocked and obviously shaken by me.

“What are you doing?” I whisper, “Gerard…” He starts to bawl, it looks like he’d brought up most of his dinner already.

I hug him against my chest and he falls limp, his arms going around me. I pet his hair and he grips my shirt, he’s shaking and sobbing so hard that he couldn’t catch his breath.

“I’m sorry.” He chokes and I hug him tighter.

“Shh, don’t apologize, it’s okay.” I press my face into his hair, mom used to hold me like this a lot and it made me feel better.

It takes a long time to calm him down, he’s a complete wreck and I feel horrible, I really don’t know how to fix it.

He looks up at me with tearstained face, it’s pale again, “I’m sorry, Frank. I want you to be proud of me.” He swallows hard.

“I am proud of you. I won’t ever not be proud of you. You’re getting better and part of getting better is getting bad again first.” I tell him softly and he sighs.

“I won’t ever get better if I act like this.” 

“Why did you relapse?” I rub at his back.

“That girl, she told me that I was getting fat again and I should just give up.” Gerard’s voice wobbles.

“We’ll report her in the morning and for now, you and I are going to go back to your room and I’m going to sleep in the chair and make sure you don’t do anything stupid.” I twirl his long hair around my fingers.

“You can stay in my bed, you know, you don’t have to sleep in that uncomfortable chair.” He offers and I panic slightly.

“Okay, don’t be offended if I can’t take it.” I say, “I haven’t been able to sleep with anybody else in a long time.” I inform and he squeezes me.

“It’s okay.” He tells me, “Baby steps.”

 


	4. Sleeping Sound

#  **Frank**

Gerard paced the room a lot before laying down on his bed. I was nervous as he summoned me to lay with him. Slowly I slid into the bed with him and he places an arm over me, his face buried in my shoulder.

I’m tense, horribly shaky and jumpy suddenly. It takes a moment for Gerard to notice, but he does. 

“Relax, Frankie.” His voice is gruff and tired, “If I’m pushing the limits, just let me know.” He turns to look up at me.

“I’m just not used to this.” I shake my head.

“Do you want to talk about it?” His voice is muffled in my skin.

“I can’t.” I want to but the words aren’t ready to come.

“I will wait for you to be able to, if you want?” His sleepy mind not registering what I was trying to say.

“No, I mean, I can’t yet, I’m not ready.” 

“Ohh.” He mumbles, “If you aren’t comfortable then I can try not to touch you.” He offers me.

I shake my head. That’s when I roll over and wrap my arms around him, I hug him close, forcing myself past the memories and the pain. I want to be better, this is the only way I can make progress. I press my face into his hair and inhale his smell. He’s something new, he’s not filled with the sickening ‘clean’ smell of hospital. Gerard smelled like autumn, that home-like scent, with a hint of strawberry and cinnamon. He smelled calming.

I squeezed him tighter and hold my eyes shut as tears start to run down from them. I feel Gerard press his face into my chest, holding his arms around me, rubbing at my back softly.

“I hope this is helping you get better.” He says into my chest, “I hope you can be happy.”

I start to cry harder and he says nothing more, rubbing my back as the tears silently fall.

I think I was just about ready to talk.

|||

It’s late, probably close to one in the afternoon when I awake. I hadn’t slept like this in a long time, I felt great.

Gerard is drooling on my arm and there’s someone knocking on the door.

I push at Gee until he opens his eyes, “I’m sleeping.” He grumbles.

“Someone wants in.” I point at the door.

“Shit…” He rolls out of bed and I follow, going to sit in the chair across the room. Gerard pulls open the door, rubbing at his eyes, “Hi, I just woke up, I’m sorry I missed our appointment.” His morning voice is really kind of sexy.

“It’s alright, Gerard. You look like death.” The person on the other side of the door says, “Can I come in and just talk to you for a couple minutes? I have to run out and this is easier than dragging you to the office.”

“Yeah, don’t mind Frank. He was worried about me so he stayed here last night.” He nods at me and Carson enters, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Worried about you? What for?” Carson raises a brow.

Gerard glances over at me, as if asking for help, “If you don’t mind me telling you, I will.” Frank says, “I don’t think Gerard wants to say himself.”

He hangs his head in thanks.

“That is fine with me.” Carson nods.

“That girl, Allie, she told Gerard that he was fat and he should just give up because he looked better before and it really freaked him out and he, well… He relapsed because of her comment. I caught him and made him stop but he already had gotten up most of his food.” I explain and Gerard hides his face in shame.

“Well, Allie will not be let off the hook for this, that is one-hundred percent unacceptable.” He shakes his head, “And, Gerard, don’t beat yourself up over this, okay. You just started your medications and you are not better yet, with eating you’ve been doing amazing but you’re not healthy yet. It’s not your fault.” 

I can see a smile from the corner of Gerard’s mouth, he rubs his eyes, presumably wiping tears away.

“Thank you, Carson. I really am trying to not go back to square one.” He says and it has so much emotion behind it that I feel my chest sting.

“I definitely won’t let you fall that far and I know that Frank won’t either, judging by how he stayed all night to make sure you were okay.”

I blush.

“Also, I just want to say that I’m glad that you both have somebody to stand by.” Carson looks between us, “I have to run and visit a former client for lunch, I’ll see you at some point later tonight to check and make sure you ate. Since I won’t be here for you both to eat your lunch, I trust that you’ll eat.” He gives Gerard a  _ ‘you-better-be-listening-to-me’  _ look before saying a goodbye to us both and exiting.

I stand and make my way to the door, “Let’s go eat.” I say and he grins at me, nodding in agreement.

|||

“I just remembered I get weighed tomorrow.” He pokes the tomatoes on his plate around.

“Okay, I have to ask, why the hell do you get tomatoes every day when you just toss them out?” I ask, pointing at the red vegetables on his plate.

“They make me sick so I get them just… I don’t know, it’s comforting. I used to eat them to make myself sick instead of shoving my fingers down my throat.”

“How is that comforting?” I question.

“I can’t explain it myself, it’s just something I’m used to.” He stares down at them. I sigh and stab my fork into them all and put them onto my plate.

“No more of that.” I shake my head.

“I don’t eat them!” He argues with me.

“I know but it’s like… Okay so this is really personal but, I keep a razor around all the time because it’s the same kind of comfort as these are to you.” I admit and he looks at me weird for a second.

“But you still have yours.”

“Gerard, I feel like you’re ready to let them go.” I say, “If you let them go I’ll toss the razor.” I take a few breaths to calm down.

“Deal.” He agrees, “You have to stop hurting yourself anyway so I’ll give up those for you to get better.”

My hands tremble at his words, “Thank you, Gerard.”

|||

I sleep in my room tonight and my bed feels oddly large, it feels wrong. I’m kept awake for hours. The room was empty until about midnight, when Dyllon returns to the room. He’s off and seems angry.

“Dyllon?” I say, sitting upright in the bed.

“Shut up.” He mutters and paces the room.

“Are you okay? Do you need me to get somebody?” I start to stand and he lunges at me, grabbing me, his fingers digging into my skin, certainly leaving bruises.

“Don’t you dare!” He yells at me and I hold my eyes shut.

I need to stay calm.

“Dyllon, it’s okay…” I keep my voice low and as calm as I could with the anxiety attack that was suddenly setting in, “What’s wrong, Dyllon? You can talk to me and tell me what happened and I won’t say anything to anybody, I promise.” My eyes are still shut too tightly and my voice is too forced.

“Shut up!” He shouts and I start to hyperventilate. Slowly I stand to get level with him, which only ends with me being slammed against the wall, “Shut up, shut up, shut up!” He screams and I know he’s only having a psychotic episode but I’m so fucking scared.

“D-... Dyllon… Please… Calm d-... Down, please.” I beg.

“Calm down!? Don’t tell me to calm down!” His grip gets harder as he slams me against the wall yet again.

“Shh… It’s-... It’s okay.” I speak slowly to hide my horror. I keep flashing between now and the past and I knew I would never get better, nothing was getting better.

He starts shouting louder now, he’s going on and on about something I don’t get and calling me the wrong name, getting more and more aggressive. Thankfully this alerts somebody in the next room and a guard throws the door down and pried him off of me.

I’m in shock and I can’t move, I can’t function, my eyes held shut, paralyzed with fear. He’s screaming and fighting violently against the guard. People rush from their rooms to see what’s happening but Gerard seems to be the only one to actually do anything other than stare.

He hurries in and comes to my aid.

“Frankie, hey, are you alright?” He pulls me into his chest and I, of course, fight against him. He squeezes me and I eventually calm down and lean into his embrace as I start to sob, grabbing his shirt and holding onto him.

“Gerard.” I whimper, “It hurts.” I beg for him to fix it. My mind keeps sending back things that I never want to remember.

“I know, Frankie, you’re going to be fine, I’m right here.” He coos.

Gerard goes to pull back but I won’t let go, “Don’t go.” I beg, “Please don’t leave.”

“I’m not going to leave you, calm down, it’s okay.” He says softly, “The nurse wants to check you over so I have to let go, I’ll sit on your bed with you, okay?” He’s so gentle.

I nod and slowly release him.

A nurse looks over the bruises on my shoulders and back, placing a few bandages where he’d scraped me when they pried him off.

I’m informed that I no longer will be rooming with anybody and Gerard takes the liberty to take over the now free bed.

I lie awake for close to an hour before I give into what my head begged of me.

I slip from my bed and crawl in besides Gerard, awaking him in the process, “Frankie…? You okay?” He rubs his eyes, his smooth, crackly.

“I’m cold.” I lie and feel Gerard nod and pull his arms around me.

“Sleep well, oh, and feel better. Wake me if you need anything?”


	5. You.

#  **Frank**

It became a thing.

It happened a lot where I would insist that I was cold and Gerard would let me lay with him. I was trying to make it not as obvious as it was that I just wanted to touch him. I probably should be praising myself for it, I haven't been able to allow such human contact in what felt like forever.

Though I was kicking myself because I had to lie about being cold to get the cute boy’s attention. 

It was weird how much I wanted him to be touching me, my own mother couldn't get close enough to touch me anymore and I've known her forever.

I've only been in this shitty place for probably around three months and I was allowing a weird kid with faded red hair and brown-ish, black roots hanging down from the top that dresses in crazy clothes that popped out in a crowd, to hold me and touch me whenever he pleases and there's no problem with it. 

I think it was because he was slow and gentle and willing to take his time with me. Nobody else understood that I physically couldn't be touched or feel okay. Gerard gets it. 

To an extent.

I still wasn't really talking about anything, I was just pushing myself to be better so I could leave and not be stuck here without Gerard.

He had relapsed a few times and I'm sure that's the only reason that he's even still here. He's better. Mostly.

Today was a really nice day, so, sick of staring at the blank walls, I went to the courtyard to get some fresh air. 

I lay out on the pavement, staring up at the sky. I had been out here for a couple of hours now and I was honestly so much happier. The bright colors of outside were something I actually, surprisingly, missed.

I hear somebody clear their throat in an accusing manner, to which, I look in the direction of the sound. Gerard is stood, not far from me, arms crossed.

“Hey.” I give a little wave and turn back to the sky.

“Don't you  _ ‘Hey’ _ me! I couldn't find you and was worried sick.” He lays next to me.

“Oh, sorry, you were sleeping and I didn't want to wake you.” I say sheepishly.

“It's fine.” He hums and bumps his head against my shoulder, “I just got nervous.”

“Why do you care, Gerard?” I don’t mean for it to sound so harsh, I genuinely just want to know. He looks at me weird, confused by the sudden forcefulness of my voice as I had to shove the words past my lips.

“Well, because you’re my friend. If anything, you’re my… My… Um… Best friend…?” He trails, worried that I would think poorly of this statement.

“You’re my best friend too.” I don’t know why it stings me to let the words be free.

“Good.” He mumbles, his hand brushing against my hand and making my stomach fill with butterflies.

“But… I don’t get it.” I shake my head.

“Don’t get what?” Gerard scrunches his brow.

“Why do you care about a loser like me? Why do you like being around me?” I shake my head, “I don’t get why anybody would ever care about some kid who can’t get over stupid shit from the past.” A loud breath runs over my lips.

“I care because you’re amazing, Frank. You’re proud of me. Nobody has ever been proud of me and nobody gets me like you. There’s just something about you that’s so captivating…” He seems to drift away into thought in the end.

I sit up, “Why though? Why, Gerard? I’m fucked up! I self-harm and relive the abuse and relive the rape and the words and the touching and yelling and-... and… Why, Gerard? Why?” I feel tears starting to run down my cheeks.

A hand rests on my back, “I care about you because you’re better than all of that, you are the greatest person ever.” He places an arm over my shoulders, “You’re getting better.”

I lean my head on him, “Am I really?” I close my eyes, “Will I ever really be better, Gerard?”

“You will, I can promise you that.” 

|||

They released Gerard and I was alone yet again. I lay on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, I hadn’t given him my number or my email or my anything and now I knew I wouldn’t be able to find him again.

I feel my heart ache, my chest is tight and my eyes sting.

I start to realize that whatever I felt towards him wasn’t what I thought it was originally and whatever it really was, I didn’t want to feel. I wasn’t ready. 

I couldn’t even tell Gerard why I hurt so much all the time. I couldn’t let him help.

“I’m in love with him.” My voice comes out so soft but booms throughout the too-silent room. I didn’t even want to think it, let alone say it, but I couldn’t stop, “I love him… I love him and I love him so much… I fucked up and I-... I lost him.”

I slam my palm to my forehead as the waves of tears run down my face.

“Damn it, damn it,  _ damn it! _ ” I shout at myself and pull my pillow over my face. It smelled vaguely of him.

I cough and cough and cough, which forces me to sit up.

This is the worst day of my life.

Minus those memories.

|||

I closed myself off to most, only speaking to my therapists and doctors, not to anybody that I didn’t have to. I had finally found something that made me want to open up and get better but now there was no point. My life was always going to be shit.

I couldn’t get a job because I had a mental breakdown and I had panic attacks and flashbacks and couldn’t talk to people. I lived with my mother who couldn’t help me anymore because of how severe my condition had gotten. I was better off just staying in here forever.

This is until I get a new roommate after about three weeks.

It was so sudden, they came in and told me to clear out the other bed, I would be getting a new roommate as of today in approximately four hours.

I take my time, slowly and lazily moving my things over to my side of my room. I told them I didn’t want a roommate but apparently they were giving me one to make me open up again. That’s what my therapist said during my session at least.

I shuffle my way back to my room and toss open the door with a sad frown plastered to my face. I toss some papers on a chair near the door, on top of a bigger stack of pages. I sigh as I stare at them for a second before turning to climb into my bed, where I planned to sleep forever.

“Miss me?” A voice chimes just as I make eye contact with the owner.

There sits a tired and pale, yet alive, Gerard.

“Gee!?” I gasp, “Oh my god, Gee!” I throw myself onto him and he pulls his arms around me, they’re bandaged.

“Hey, you really need to give me your number this time.” He squeezes me against me, gripping my shirt.

“Why are you back?” I look up at him, “Oh, Gee… Did you relapse?” It hurts to think that he would feel bad enough about himself to.

“Be proud, I didn’t relapse!” He cheers, “Though I did take roughly forty sleeping pills and cut myself up and burned myself a bit and scratched… A lot.” He gives a ‘ _ whoops’ _ -like half-frown-half-smile.

“Gee…” My voice falls, “Why?”

“‘Cause I missed you.” He jokes and I roll my eyes at him, “Fine… I was treated like shit. ‘ _ You can’t eat that, you’ll get fat again _ ’, ‘ _ I think you were better off vomiting everything back up, look at what you eat! It’s healthier to have an eating disorder _ ’ and so on and so on.” He mumbles and my heart breaks.

“I missed you a lot but I really would rather you have been okay than have come back.” I bring a hand up to his hair, twirling it around my fingers. It was bright red once again.

“Trust me, I don’t want to be back either. I’m just glad you’ll be here with me.” He ruffles my black locks.

My face is pressed into his chest, “I love you.” I say so soft that even I can’t hear it.

“I won’t leave you here this time.”


	6. Soft

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so short!  
> I promise you that next chapter will be way better

#  Gerard

Frank fell asleep on me, his puffy cheeks smushed into my chest and his round, plump, too-pink lips held agape, breathing gently. There were small locks of hair that slid down in front of his face, the rest, tucked neatly behind his ear as I stroked at it sweetly. His black hair was so silky and smooth.

His hands grip my shirt tighter, his fingers gripping the fabric like a scared child. I hug his tiny body with my free arm and I catch him starting to smile in his sleep. I grin at his contentment, “Seems like a pretty good dream.” I hum as I twirl his hair around my slender fingers.

Frank was warm. He was warm and sweet. I press my face into his hair to kiss him softly on the head, he smells just as warm as he really is. He kind of smells like a hint of a cologne, you know, not very strong stuff, the kind that could be considered a natural scent I guess.

He smelled strongly of vanilla. Soft, warm, almost as if a color went with the sweet pleasurable scent. Dark wood, vanilla and fresh linens in the cool spring. Holding him was almost like a version of the heaven I never believed in and hoped to be brought to when I died, it made my whole body react, relaxing and tingling under the touch of him. My senses honed in on only his scent in this moment, I never wanted another second to tick by, I wished to be frozen in this place for all time. I craved to remember this warm, vanilla, dark, old wood and linen-like scent so well that I wouldn’t even have to be near Frank to feel like I was touching him. I wanted to remember so hard that I wouldn’t know that the word  _ forgot  _ even existed at any point in time.

My mind wanders through a picture perfect memory that never even happened, yet it felt real as I rested my face in the jet-black locks. My hand plays with the long strands as I try to embed this into my mind forever.

I think so hard that I don’t even notice that Frank is awake.

|||

By the time dinner comes around, I’m starving and Frank is ogling me while pretending to read. I don’t think he realizes the time really.

“You hungry?” I stand from what is now my bed.

“Oh, yeah!” He hops up and bounces over to me, “You’re still eating properly, right?” He asks me and, to which, I ruffle his hair.

“Of course I am! I promised I would, didn’t I?” He smiles up at me for a second before grabbing my wrist and pulling me down the hallways to the cafeteria.

I get some shitty pasta, a cookie and I start to reach for the tomatoes, though I pull away. I catch Frank grinning out of the corner of my eye before he turns and steps in line to pay for his food.

The two of us sit and Frank pokes at his food lightly, almost as if he were trying to pretend that he was eating it. I frown at him, for once I was actually eating more than him.

I stick my fork out, getting it stuck in his. He looks up at me confused, “Eat.” I say and he cocks his head to the side.

“I am.” He frowns at me.

“Don’t lie to me, Frank. You’re talking to a person who did the same thing for over four years.” I glare at him, “Now, why aren’t you eating?” I more demand than ask.

“Just not in the mood…” He shrugs slowly, “I don’t know.” He mumbles to himself and stares down at the plate.

“I’m worried.” I confess, “I don’t want you to get bad like I did.” I tell him and he gives me a weak smile.

“I just feel a bit sick. I just kinda want to sleep.” He starts poking at his food again and I sigh.

“I just want to help… What can I do?” I question, suddenly not hungry either as my stomach drops with nerves. What if he was getting sick?

Why was I so so worried?

He shakes his head, the corner of his lips turning upwards a little, “I don’t think there’s much you can do.” I notice him trying to suppress a shiver and I grin.

“I can warm you up.” I speak, not even thinking how gross it could sound.

Frank starts to laugh at me, “Sure, as long as there’s no fingers in the ass business.”

I roll my eyes and force myself not to laugh or smile, “Shut up or my foot will be up there.”

“Kinky.”

|||

I run my hand over his back as he rests his head on my chest, he does feel a bit too warm but he’s trembling.

He coughs into my chest and shakes a bit harder for a second, hugging his arms around his midsection in attempt to push the heat back into himself. I give him a gentle squeeze and I notice him grin ata little bit. He buries his face into me and whimpers softly, “I’m really cold.”

“I know you are but you’re starting to get like… Really hot.” I say as I press a hand to the back of his neck where his hair captures the heat. It worries me even more as I feel how warm he is.

He shakes his head and slides out of bed, “I’m gonna go ask for some pills to get rid of this headache and then I think I’ll try and sleep.” He mumbles and I sit up.

“Do you want me to get them for you?” I offer and he shakes his head sleepily.

“Hey, don’t worry about me okay? How about you read or something to calm down, you seem anxious.”

“Okay, I’ll try.” 

Frank leaves the room and I rummage through a mound of books he had before deciding on a fantasy book called  _ Carry On _ .

I slide my shirt off and change into a pair of loose pajama pants before laying on my own bed. I start to read the long as hell book, letting my mind slip away from the worry that had started to drown me.

When Frank comes back after a while, slipping in quietly and crawling under the covers of his bed, pulling his covers over his head, “Goodnight, Gee.” He murmurs into his pillow.

“Goodnight, Frankie… Feel better.” I hum and watch him a bit longer before turning my attention back to my book.


	7. If I Say I Love You...

#  Gerard

I lay, entranced by the words running off the pages and dancing through my mind. I get so lost in this world that I forget about everything else and even that I’m a real person and that I’m not just watching this all unfold before me.

That is until my bed dips and there is weight pressed atop me, “Gee…” A whine causes me to discard the story.

“Frankie, what’s going on?” I coo and start playing with his hair.

“I’m cold and I hurt.” He whimpers and grips my arm.

“Awe, what can I do?” I hug him close, pulling him onto me, holding him close and realizing how scalding hot his skin was, “Frankie, you’re too warm.”

He shakes his head, his locks falling over him, covering his face, “No, I’m so cold, please, just hold me.” He begs so hard, with all his strength.

“What if you get sicker? What if I make your fever worse?” I worry more than I should.

“It’s okay, I’m just lovesick, not real sick.” He mumbles and tries to get closer to me to take my heat.

“Lovesick?” 

He nods and he pipes up after a minute of silence, “If I take off my shirt and change into lighter pants will you please warm me up?” He says and I start to nod.

Frank sits and pulls his shirt off, throwing it to the side before slipping from my bed, shaking like mad as he stripped down and got into a pair of boxers. He fumbles back into the bed with me and instantly forces himself on top of me, clinging to me and shivering like crazy. He coughs harshly into my bare chest and lets out a strangled whine, pain running over him.

“Frank, I’m so worried.” I admit to him and he shakes his head at me.

He coughs a little, “Just lovesick.” He shakes his head again and yawns.

I open my mouth to ask him what he was talking about, when he shifts and slams the top of his head to my jaw, ending with me biting my lip hard enough to draw blood.

I clasp a hand over my lips and keep myself from yelling. Frank looks up at me with those big hazel eyes, “Are you okay?” He says, “I’m sorry.”

I shake my head, “It’s fine.” I slurr.

Frank grabs my hand and pulls it away, “Ow.” He mumbles and runs a finger over my lip and I wince as it stings, “I’m sorry.”

I shake my head yet again, “Frankie, it’s okay.” I brush a hand over his hot cheek, pushing back his hair. He coughs again, weak and soft.

“How can I make it better?” Frank squints at me, obviously out of it in a delusional state.

“I don’t think you can… It’ll be fine.” I insist but he pouts for a second before I catch a flash of what I could only describe as ‘ingenious’ in those eyes of his.

He kisses me.

It’s soft and hard, warm and freezing, perfect and petrifying all at once. My heart was pounding in my ears and my chest felt all tight, it was something that I never felt before, well, I had felt it but never in a good way.

A hand moves to rest on the small of his back and he has his hands holding my shoulders, his fingers playing with the tips of my hair. Slowly I move my free hand up his arm and to the back of his neck and that’s when I remember he’s sick and that my lip is bleeding and swollen and that my mouth hurts.

I push Frank back, pain written over my features and my face was burning. I felt weird and tingly.

“Oh, shit…” Frank seems to sober up as fear runs through his hazels, “I wasn’t supposed to do that. I am really, really sorry.” He starts to slide out of the bed and I simply pull my arms around him and press my face into his hair.

That scent.

I close my eyes and force the sweet smell of him to stay in my head.

He’s so tense for a long time, his body only seems to relax when he slips into a calm sleep. I kiss the top of his head, lingering for a moment. He’s so warm and I’m worried and scared but yet I feel so relaxed that I end up falling asleep to the scent of the boy who’s name tag had read;  _ “Nobody You Fuck” _ .

|||

I awake and find that I’m alone. I sit up in the bed and look around, Frank isn’t even in the room. I get up as soon as my sleepy brain will function enough to realize this. I pull on a shirt that was laid on the floor and slide on my slippers and shuffle on out of the room.

I rub at my eyes and slowly begin to wobble down the halls. I can’t see properly, my eyes refusing to awaken with the rest of me. I continue rubbing at my face and end up bumping into Carson as he made his way somewhere in the building.

“Gerard! My god, you’re up early.” He comments, “How are you doing? Feeling any better than when you came back in?”

“Have you seen Frank?” I mumble, my voice hoarse and slurred from my still swollen lip.

“No, I haven’t… Why are you talking funny?” He looks me over a few times.

“Bit my lip…” I shake my head dismissively, “I need to find Frank, can you let me know if you see him? He had a fever last night and I’m kinda worried.” I scratch at my head.

I watch him nod, “I’ll ask the front desk to see if he was admitted, they could have checked him into a regular room if his fever was too high or something like that. Don’t work yourself up too much.”

|||

It’s been hours, he wasn’t admitted and he wasn’t anywhere, I was so worried that I was physically sick to my stomach and I couldn’t stop shaking. I don’t know why I felt like I could cry either.

I pace our room for a long, long time before I finally remember.

I shove on my slippers and full on sprint down the halls and to the one place I hadn’t checked.

I shove open the doors to the courtyard and there he is, his back to me as he sits on a bench staring at his lap. The way he looks is so beautiful that I end up back in our room, grabbing my polaroid camera and heading back.

He’s still in the same position and I crouch down to get a better angle before I take the picture. His jet-black hair runs down his head and cascades down his back slightly and over his shoulders, small highlights from the way the sun hitting him in a certain way made the black look even darker than normal. His skin looked so pale through the parts in his hair and his shoulders were slumped over a bit.

The click of the camera makes him jump and I mentally punch myself in the face.

Stupid.

He turns, watching me for what felt like an eternity, “Gee?” He asks and I can’t see him well from the sun blocking him awkwardly. 

“Whoops.” I chuckle awkwardly.

“What are you doing?” His voice rasps.

“Better question; what are  _ you _ doing?” I sigh, “You should be in bed, you’re sick!” I scold, “Frank I was worried to the point where I could vomit! Jesus… Are you alright?” I give in and make my way over and sit by him.

“I’m fine, Gee. I’m not sick.” He shakes his head, “Seriously, stop worrying.” He’s a bit too harsh and it almost hurts.

… Okay, maybe it hurts a little.

“I… I can’t, Frank. I don’t know why I care so hard and I don’t know how you made me never want to not care…” I admit but refuse to look at him. Slowly I reached over and touched his knee and he stared at the contact.

“Please don’t care… Please try.” He frowns, “... Try not to care.” 

My fingers squeeze his leg a little, “You have no idea how hard I’ve tried. I knew from the moment that I saw that little ‘ _ Nobody You Fuck _ ’ in the poor handwriting on an upside down name tag, I knew right then and there that I was fucked.” Frank looks over at me and goes to speak, “I knew that I was weak and that I wouldn’t be able to say no to you but yet I wouldn’t be able to make sure you knew just how much you meant to me.” 

I hear Frank’s breathing over the pounding of my heart in my ears and I can’t tell which is truly louder. I suddenly find myself leaning on him, my face rested in a way that I can smell his scent and feel at peace. Why couldn’t I remember it? Why wouldn’t it stick?

I feel fingers lace between my own, “Gee… Are you doing okay?” His thumb runs soothing, soft circles over my skin with his sweet fingers that were so soft themselves. I take in a very deep breath through my nose to capture the dark wood, vanilla and linens, “You’re crying.” He frowns, his voice sad.

“I am?” I speak, almost hollow.

“Yeah… I’m sorry…” He mumbles, “Are you okay though?” He pleads with me.

I nod and then shake my head, shaking my head more than nodding, “I don’t really know right now…” I sniffle, “Please just talk to me… Tell me anything and everything and talk to me about life and the universe. Anything, please.” 

Frank stays silent for a solid minute or two before speaking up, “I’m going to tell you the truth…” He pauses, “My story, me… Just the raw, bitterness of what I am and who I am.”A sigh, “Is that okay?”

“I want to hear anything as long as you’re telling it.” I close my eyes.

Another sigh and a long pause, “My name is Frank Iero, I’m seventeen and I have very severe P.T.S.D and an anxiety disorder that goes along with it…” He steadies his breathing momentarily, “Okay, onto the tough part…” He clears his throat, “Oh god… I’ve never actually said this stuff out loud…” 

I squeeze his hand, “Take your time, Frankie… I’m gonna listen and be here every step of the way… It’s okay…”

I feel him relax.

“Okay… Um, I…” He breathes for a bit, “When I was little, some family friends took me… I was really, really little and didn’t know and well… Um, I was molested and used and abused…” He shivers and composes himself, “And then I was found, ten years later… They brought me home and I couldn’t bring myself to speak for close to a year and then the suicide attempt lead me to meeting Bob…” He winces and seems to freeze.

I grip his hand, “Talk about whatever makes you comfortable, don’t force yourself.”

“I want to… Gee, I’m ready to finally let go of this all and start over.” His eyes close for a second and he calms down, “Gee, I met this guy named Bob and I fell in love with him because I thought he cared and he said he did and he used me for sex… I can’t even sleep in my own bed at home anymore because it still smells like him and I can still feel him there. Sometimes I even still feel his touch on my skin or his breath on my neck… I feel his lips on mine all the time…” He sighs, “I feel gross, I feel like he’s touching me all the time, everywhere… Except for where you’re touching me, that is…” I open my eyes to look at him and see small, sparkling tears on his cheeks. The pain seeming to be released with it all.

I shut my eyes again as the tears now threaten me like knives to my throat, “I’m glad that you’re getting better, Frank. God… I am so happy that you’re getting better.” I hold his hand tight, knuckles white and I scream at myself not to cry, not to shout and not to admit that I’m in love with the jet-black locks and hazels that stare into my soul, I refuse to let myself think about the way that I felt, that my body reacted to him. Right now, all I could remember was his smell.

“Gee, I don’t feel his lips anymore…”

And suddenly, all I could hear was my breathing, it was heavy and fast, almost as if I had been running and I could feel my pulse in my throat. My fingers crushed Frank's hand and he didn't seem to notice, or he didn't care. 

It all builds in me and bursts like a firework, “I love you, Frank.”


	8. Would You Have The Guts To Say It Back

#  Frank

“I love you, Frank.” 

His words hit me like a brick to the temple. 

_ “I love you.” _

His head lifts from my shoulder, “If I said that… Would you have the guts to say it back.” I close my eyes and suck in a breath as I feel him watching me.

I can’t speak.

_ Would you have the guts to say it back. _

I shake my head, “No.”

That’s when Gerard sits there and doesn’t say a single word. He seems appalled by my answer, he can’t seem to speak either as I notice his mouth hanging open out of the corner of my eye.

“No?” He sounds hurt and his pain-laced words wrap around my chest and crush my ribs, “So that kiss meant nothing…” His head falls to face his lap and I crack.

I face him and cup his cheeks, causing him to look at me, “Please don’t say that Gee… Please don’t think that.” I pleade.

“You just said it.”

“No, Gee…” My voice falls, “I don’t have the guts to say it back.” I lean my forehead against the top of his head.

“Stop…” He whispers.

“Gee, I can’t say it back.” I feel tears prick at my eyes, “I’m weak, I’m pathetic… I’m terrible.” I kiss him on the top of the head, “I’m sorry.”

I feel my palm get damp and I glance down, Gerard is in tears and staring down at his lap, I run my thumbs over his cheeks.

“It was a lie.” He frowns to himself.

“It wasn’t… I did it, Gee, because I can’t get the words I want to come out. Those words don’t do you justice… Someday I’ll find the right words, okay? I promise.” I kiss his nose and catch a quick smile from him.

“But I love you, Frankie. I really think I love you enough to like… Marry you some day.” His face is red.

“I feel the same, I just need help getting to the point where I can say it.” I tell him and his eyes meet mine.

“I love you… I love your scent and your eyes and your hair… I love you…” He seems to be bursting at the seams as the words fall from him.

“I know.” I hug him into my chest, “I feel the same…” I feel like I can finally breathe after being held underwater for far too long.

“I just love you a lot. You fixed me, Frankie, I love you so much… I really, really-”

I kiss him to shut him up. 

His lips are smooth and taste so much like watermelon lemonade. It makes me smile and force my lips onto his a bit harder to try and keep from laughing. Gerard breaks the kiss by laughing himself and wincing from the now reopened gash in his lip.

“I’m sorry.” I chuckle softly and kiss him again.

“My mouth is bleeding.” He pushes me away.

“I’m kissing it better, shh.” I hum and press my lips again to his, holding his cheek in one hand and pulling him onto my lap with the other.

I feel him smile lightly before breaking away and letting his head fall to my chest, “So tired.” I hear him yawn.

Gently I brush my fingers over his soft cheeks, he shudders, “Cold.” I hear him say as he captures my hands in his, still keeping them against his face.

“Let’s go in then and you can sleep on me.” My voice is stupid and gross from my stuffed nose. I sniffle.

“No, you have to sleep on me ‘cause you’re sick.” Gerard squishes my fingers.

“No.” I protest.

“I love you.” He repeats, “A lot, Frankie.” He has is his eyes shut loosely, his forehead rested on my chest.

“I know, Gee.” I kiss the top of his head, “I know.” I close my eyes and rest my face into his long hair. His scent, oh god, his scent.

“You’re so warm.” His muffled voice rings out into my jacket.

“I know, I’m sick.” I chuckle a bit and feel him smile.

“You’re always so warm.” He coos and I can’t help laughing.

“You’re tired, let’s go.” I eventually pull him to his feet and he drags me to our room, excited to nap together.

He’s such an old man, I love it.

|||

I feel Gerard shivering when I awake, “You okay, baby?” I croak and he jumps.

“How did you even know I’m awake?” His teeth chatter slightly.

“How can I help you get warm?” I ignore his question, “Do you want my sweater?” I rub at his back and he shakes his head, sliding under the covers.

I feel him lift my jacket up and he wriggles sleepily inside of my clothing, resting his head against my bear chest.

“I’ll just join you in it.” He suddenly sounds so exhausted, “So warm.” He coos and squeezing my side in his cold fingers.

My face is so hot and I’m so shaken, it’s impossible to wipe the shock from my eyes or the rest of me either. My arms wrap around me nonetheless.

Gerard’s nose pokes out from the collar of my jumper for fresh air and I giggle softly at him. He dozes off quickly and snores a bit. I take this opportunity to snap a few pictures on his polaroid camera to keep for later.

I lean my head back against the pillow that was pressed against the wall and close my eyes, how the hell did I get this lucky? How did I get a man that loves me like this? A man that didn’t care if I could say aloud that I loved him? How?

I find myself smiling, running my hand up and down his arm slightly. 

I want to get better for him.

For Gerard.

|||

Getting better was so hard. Talking and telling all of this stuff to people was too scary but after two more months of being here and Gerard desperately trying to stay and be with me, it gets harder and harder and I just don’t seem to be getting stable.

I lay in the courtyard, which I’ve been doing a lot lately.

“Frankie.” Sighs Gee, “Bad session?” He lays next to me.

“Yeah… I was forced to tell the entire group what I remembered of my last rape.” A long breath ran past my lips, “Of course I remembered every fucking detail… I just talk about it so I can get the fuck out of here.”

Gerard pulls an arm around me, holding me close, “I love you.” He kisses my temple, “You’re really doing good, Frankie. I’m proud of you.” Gerard says as he buries his face into my shoulder, “I’m proud of you.” He says again.

I run my fingers over his cheek, “You’re beautiful.” It just seemed to come out like nothing. I shocked myself as well as Gerard.

“Wow…” He mumbles with a blush over his face, “I… Thank you, Frank… I love you.”

“Me too.” I say and rest my head against him. He runs his hand over my chest trailing it down to my stomach and leaving it there.

“I just don’t get it.” He shakes his head for a second, “I love your body and your small belly is really cute and like… Healthy and stuff but when it’s on me, I hate it.” He frowns, “You don’t have to throw up and starve yourself to be skinny and perfect.” A sigh, “I’m sorry, that was random… Sorry… I’ll shut up.” He pulls his hand away.

“Gee…” I feel my everything drop inside me with sadness, “Are you back to your bad habit?” I would never, ever mention it by name, it made me sad and I could tell it hurt him too.

“... I’m fixing it, don’t worry.” He dismissed as tears sprung to my eyes.

“Gee…” You could hear the pain and hurt in my voice easily, “Baby… Why didn’t you tell me? What happened?” I am definitely crying now.

“I hate looking in the mirror and seeing the little bulgy part of my stomach.” He bites his lip and poke the lower part of my stomach, “Like, I hate seeing that part on myself but I love it on you so much… I don’t get it.” He looks up at the sky.

“Gee... I want you to feel better…” I huff softly to myself for being so stupid, “You know, no matter how much weight you lose, you’ll still have that little pouch thing at the bottom of your belly, you know, it’s like a little cup to keep your organs and stuff from being squished.” I explain.

“I wish they would be squished… I hate them and I would rather be dead than have them do this to me… I’m fat.” He pouts.

“If you’re fat then I must be obese.” I sigh, my breath lingering and my lungs stinging for a moment before I breathe in again. The tree above us drops a flower and it lands directly on his forehead, I grab the camera that’s by his side and straddle him, he starts to laugh and I snap a picture of him. I kiss him then and grab his cheeks in my hands, discarding the camera nearby. The flower is smushed between our faces somewhere, “Listen…” I hum against his soft lips, “You’re beautiful. So, beautiful.” I mumbled onto his mouth, “I love you and your tummy and your face and lips and eyes and scent and every, single, thing, about you and your body because you’re perfect.” I run my hands over him, pressing kisses to his lips between each thing on my list.

“Stop.” He pushes me away, “Why, Frankie? I’m awful and my belly is too fat and my face is okay and my eyes are plain and my lips are slimy and the rest is even worse.” He whimpers and I feel more tears slide down my cheeks.

“Shut up, don’t you dare say that.” I scold as my stomach drops, “Not around me or at all, no. You have to see yourself the way I do. God, Gerard, you’re fucking gorgeous and you have the most beautiful body and everything so please, shut up and listen to me for once… Please.” My head falls to Frank’s chest as the tears fall from my eyes.

He plays with my hair, “I’ll try if you can do the same.”


End file.
